Smoke rose steadily higher, towards the ever more darkening sky and shouts could be heard even higher. Words, which didn't belong in this country, gave merciless orders for men who did evil as they were told to do, not even one hesitated on their duty. London was burning, every step fire took made it more beautiful and already scorched areas were smothered in black ashes.
''Find the rest of the British soldiers and arrest them! Any resistance will be suppressed without a separate order!'' The most decorated officer had given an order and the soldiers marched obediently along ash filled streets, some thinking nothing of this and some thinking how they shouldn't be here.
An ideal German man, representing a land and its times, Ludwig Beilschmidt walked also on these broken streets and sharp, trained eyes searched intently for a certain person, for his objective. His black boots couldn't be seen as they sank into ashes with every step, soot covered clothes shone slightly in the dark and his light coloured, yet dirty, hair broke the darkness around him.
He cared little or none about the bodies which sprawled around him in unnatural poses, some of those had lost limbs, and some were badly burned and bloody. He looked like a lizard, slithering around the piles of bodies, but he always inevitably stepped on some bodies and broke dozens of faces, limbs and torsos. It had been a bloodstained week.
''Come out already! You've lost your little game!'' He shouted, absolutely confident to find this person somewhere here in the ashes.
He halted near a small smouldering wooden building which was crumbling to the ground and silence fell like the dark smutch descending from the sky. Machine guns' constant bickering could be heard afar, dozens of fighter planes and bombers flew overhead, and someone even gave their death scream loud enough for him to hear.
He wasn't no longer sure how it started. One day he had the reason clearly in his head, but now his head was full of confusion. There were words and pictures, different lies by their leaders, but he couldn't point out the truth. He would stay silent and not ask which words were lies and which were truth.
Still, he remembered the day when he lost the final certainty. It was when they had counter-attacked Poland, or attacked Poland; he wasn't so sure. Some civilians had told the Germans that they had not even been close to the border, but civilians were civilians; always lying to be spared. That was the day when everything in Europe was afraid to think about the future and gears started to turn and pull different nations in a war. Germany had made them bleed and suffer for their past mistakes, and now was England's turn to regret their words. 20 years of peace were now only a memory.
He broke out of his thoughts when he heard a voice near him, whining in a language that he barely understood and that someone was scratching a brick wall in agony. His muscles tensed slightly, hand balled in tight fists and he felt adrenaline rush through his body. It must be him.
''Last chance! You'll save your honor and have a swift death if you come out right now!'' Yell came easily out of his mouth and his words silenced the person, only sounds of war could be heard now.
He knew the man he was looking for would understand him clearly, it was normal for their kind to catch the message even if they had a language barrier between them. He knew also that his offer wasn't a pleasant one, of course, no one wanted to be killed after surrendering, but he couldn't have him alive and running when the world was in such chaos. The new world wouldn't need this man, no matter what abilities he held, he wasn't wanted in there.
Again, he tore himself out of his thoughts when he heard a groan, his legs moving automatically towards the source of the sound. He didn't want to wait for a another minute, he just wanted to shoot him, leave his body to rot here in the ashes, forget him and move to the next target. His prompt steps halted immediately when a woman limped behind the brick wall and he wasn't surprised to find her here. Of course he would make her do this.
She supported herself on the wall as her right leg was lost slightly below the knee and there was a tight bandage keeping her alive. He saw her trembling, blood covered hand holding a pistol and his own hand moved instinctively to rest on his holster, ready to do whatever it took to survive.
''Mister? Can you help me, please? I'm badly wounded and I need help!'' Woman cried silently, tears slowly falling down on her cheeks, washing the blood and dirt away, leaving clean paths among the filth.
Apparently, she couldn't clearly see who was in front of her as her eyes darted from left to right and she kept repeating her words in English. Maybe in shock from blood loss.
She tried to take a desperate small hop towards him, reaching with her free hand, but her leg gave out from exhaustion and she fell on her knees. The pistol was no longer in her hand when she reached again for him and her numb fingers latched on his trousers.
''Can't you see me at all?'' He muttered silently and was annoyed by her constant begging.
There was no answer and he watched how she was still crying for him to help her, nearly placing her forehead against his leg to seek comfort from him. Nearly - She didn't have the chance to place her head as he had shot her. Her entire body slumped down, head landing on his boot, blood already making dark rivers on the ground and he moved bluntly his boot away from under her head.
''Couldn't you hear me?'' He took a small step backwards to crouch and he moved a long, light strand from her face, only it to reveal her lifeless green eye with an eternal thousand-yard stare.
''England...'' He said, letting her hair fall back to cover her face and searched her body swiftly, only to find out she was completely stripped of anything valuable, and wasn't even worth the time to ponder over why or how.
He straightened himself and his eyes spotted the gun, further away was her broken glasses, glinting slightly under the light of a burning wood.
''I forgot you had glasses...'' He said out loud as he picked up her gun from the ground and put his own pistol back in the holster. A quick examination of the gun told him how desperate her situation was; she had no bullets to save herself. The only valuable thing was her life if not even that.
His shoulders loosened up, hand still holding her gun and his eyes moved up to watch the dark sky. At least she has now peace and tranquility. He tilted his head to hear it snap few times and he gave a last look at the woman before turning around.
''Remember to blame your brother...'' He said as he turned around, ready to continue his search, but he seemed to already have found the one he searched and that person was pointing a gun at him.
''You have no right to say that...'' The man said with bitter voice and marched towards Germany.
''England... I've already said it and it's too late to take the words back... or the bullet from her head.'' He said, smirking slightly when he saw England's will to not shoot him fade away second by second.
England was going to say something, but Germany had had enough of this man already, there simply wasn't time to speak meaningless words, and used the woman's gun as a blunt weapon to hit England in his jaw, silencing him for a moment. England fell nearly on his knees and he rose up quickly, staggering and holding his jaw with a left hand, but a kick to the stomach made him fall onto the ground where ashes covered him immediately. It was hard to breath and he laid there for a moment before sitting up. The world was somewhat blurry, but he could make out Germany standing there and in an instinct, he aimed and pulled the trigger. Germany had also tried to shoot England, but was too late to remember that the woman's pistol wasn't loaded and a sharp pain ran through his body.
Both of them waited to Germany collapse on the ground, to die, but nothing happened and Germany was first to react. He threw the empty pistol at England and fled to the nearby ruins of a house, holding his injured palm and gritting his teeth together. The house was nothing but brick walls, but it was enough for Germany and England to play a quick game of cat and mouse, and both of them thought to be the cat, the hunter.
Germany crouched near a broken wall and he took his own pistol from the holster, gripping it tightly while he held his bloody hand against the wall. He felt the panic rooting in him, but he was still determined to complete his duty and he let the wall be smeared with warm blood. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have a few or dozens of minutes until he'd have first symptoms of blood loss, but right now he didn't have even time or a proper bandage to stop the bleeding.
England had also ran to hide behind a nearby brick wall, gripping his gun desperately and cursing himself.
''Have you any idea what you're doing?'' He shouted suddenly, ''You killed my sister! You even dare to invade a country!'' He wanted to say so much more, but he was silenced by a sight of the pistol laying in the ashes, small wind brushing it with its dirty fingers and somehow he couldn't anymore feel the anger or sadness in him. He would have to end it, kill Germany and take back the country; avenge her death and move on to save what was dear to him.
''This is for the greater world! We have to make sacrifices, but your sacrifice was to hold your sister here in London and take the pain! I gave her a merciless death and you were hiding behind her back all the time!'' Germany answered, pointing at England's mistakes.
German gave a quick check his gun after his words, gritting his teeth at the pain and he knew he was breathing too loudly, but couldn't help himself. England shouted some incoherent words at him, but he dismissed it and walked in a hunched pose deeper in the house, trying to find an alternative route to England.
''It wasn't even my decision...'' England tried shouting, but his words didn't hold any power in them as he wasn't sure anymore and the shout fell flat.
His eyes wandered around, small, harsh breeze bringing ashes near his feet, and the silence made him uneasy. It was too quiet. He peeked around the brick wall quickly and it didn't clear anything, on the contrary, it made his heart beat faster and his whole body went rigid.
He needed to know the German's location or he might find himself cornered. He needed to act right now. He peeked around the corner again, meeting a same view as before and this time he lingered there longer. He didn't think anything when he took a careful step and then another. He waited for gunfire, but he couldn't hear nothing - Not even those machine guns or planes which were far away from him, ending people's lives.
He found himself walking now with firm steps to the house he thought Germany was in and he only halted near the door to think his actions. He was tired of this war; tired because he couldn't sleep, exhausted because every spot on his clothes was dirty, drained because he had to kill and everything he felt didn't seem to matter. He wanted this to be the last time of those all.
He made a jagged movement to the door, pointing the empty air with his pistol and he glanced at every visible corner he saw from his spot. He didn't want to go deeper in the ruins, he knew Germany could be hiding somewhere or he could have vanished to somewhere else and he might be wasting his time. His hands fell from the tiring position when he saw the bloodied wall near him and he took a step forward, placing his forehead against the cool brick. Germany can't be anymore in perfect shape. He stared down the wall as his left hand's fingers trailed through the blood on the wall and he was sure the blood was still warm under his fingertips, he heard a small laugh escaping from his lips. He was cold in burning London.
''I'm a fool...'' He muttered, his hand forming a fist and he turned to walk out of the house.
He shouldn't be distracted by such thoughts, he had to find Germany now, but something stopped him. He saw the woman's body and sudden regret claimed his thoughts. Was this even worth it? Could she ever forgive him? He needed to know the answers and he found himself walking towards his sister's body, asking forgiveness and explaining his actions when he was interrupted by a loud noise and pain. He didn't need her to answer, it has already been written with their fate.
Germany had found another way out of the house and he had been walking cautiously around it to find England who was now moving towards the body.
''Finally...'' He muttered and raised his gun. He knew he was using England's blind moment, to end this right here and without a hint of a regret he pulled the trigger. He didn't do nothing but stared England whose dreams and hopes fell apart like the bullet that pierced him. Looked like he was the winner of this game. He quickly ran to England and crouched beside him, for a few moments he searched for a pulse, but found none. Germany couldn't tell for sure what he felt, but relief was one he could name.
''Didn't I tell you it's too late...'' He spoke silently, staring for a moment as he stood up and put his gun back in the holster. It was over.
He didn't want to spare another moment of his life to stand there and he walked away without second thoughts. Germany knew what he had done, but he had a composed expression as he stared at the sky that was red like fire and black like the ashes laying on the ground. He couldn't help but notice the change in the sky.
Notes
Hetalia and characters are made by Himaruya Hidekaz
[I remind you this never happened in World War 2 and so it is pure imagination!]
I own only the plot
I don't mean to offend you, your country, beliefs, religion etc.
You can tell me how I can improve and I try my best to change it
[This oneshot is also on Deviantart]
Also, one year has gone by, I've written down 15 of my thoughts and I want to thank all of you for reading, favouriting and reviewing my thoughts!
